“Does it matter?” asked Ender.

“Matter!” said Quara.

Ela looked at Ender with consternation. “It's only the difference between curing a dangerous disease and destroying an entire sentient species. I think it matters.”

“I meant,” said Ender patiently, “does it matter whether we know what they're saying.”

“No,” said Quara. “We'll probably never understand their language, but that doesn't change the fact that they're sentient. What do viruses and human beings have to say to each other, anyway?”

“How about, 'Please stop trying to kill us'?” said Grego. “If you can figure out how to say that in virus language, then this might be useful.”

“But Grego,” said Quara, with mock sweetness, “do we say that to them, or do they say that to us?”

“We don't have to decide today,” said Ender. “We can afford to wait awhile.”

“How do you know?” said Grego. “How do you know that tomorrow afternoon we won't all wake up itching and hurting and puking and burning up with fever and finally dying because overnight the descolada virus figured out how to wipe us out once and for all? It's us or them.”

“I think Grego just showed us why we have to wait,” said Ender. “Did you hear how he talked about the descolada? It figures out how to wipe us out. Even he thinks the descolada has a will and makes decisions.”

“That's just a figure of speech,” said Grego.

“We've all been talking that way,” said Ender. “And thinking that way, too. Because we all feel it– that we're at war with the descolada. That it's more than just fighting off a disease– it's like we have an intelligent, resourceful enemy who keeps countering all our moves. In all the history of medical research, no one has ever fought a disease that had so many ways to defeat the strategies used against it.”

“Only because nobody's been fighting a germ with such an oversized and complex genetic molecule,” said Grego.

“Exactly,” said Ender. “This is a one-of-a-kind virus, and so it may have abilities we've never imagined in any species less structurally complex than a vertebrate.”

For a moment Ender's words hung in the air, answered by silence; for a moment, Ender imagined that he might have served a useful function in this meeting after all, that as a mere talker he might have won some kind of agreement.

Grego soon disabused him of this idea. “Even if Quara's right, even if she's dead on and the descolada viruses all have doctorates of philosophy and keep publishing dissertations on screwing-up-humans-till-they're-dead, what then? Do we all roll over and play dead because the virus that's trying to kill us all is so damn smart?”

Novinha answered calmly. “I think Quara needs to continue with her research– and we need to give her more resources to do it– while Ela continues with hers.”

It was Quara who objected this time. “Why should I bother trying to understand them if the rest of you are still working on ways to kill them?”

“That's a good question, Quara,” said Novinha. “On the other hand, why should you bother trying to understand them if they suddenly figure out a way to get past all our chemical barriers and kill us all?”

“Us or them,” muttered Grego.

Novinha had made a good decision, Ender knew– keep both lines of research open, and decide later when they knew more. In the meantime, Quara and Grego were both missing the point, both assuming that everything hinged on whether or not the descolada was sentient. “Even if they're sentient,” said Ender, “that doesn't mean they're sacrosanct. It all depends whether they're raman or varelse. If they're raman– if we can understand them and they can understand us well enough to work out a way of living together– then fine. We'll be safe, they'll be safe.”

“The great peacemaker plans to sign a treaty with a molecule?” asked Grego.

Ender ignored his mocking tone. “On the other hand, if they're trying to destroy us, and we can't find a way to communicate with them, then they're varelse– sentient aliens, but implacably hostile and dangerous. Varelse are aliens we can't live with. Varelse are aliens with whom we are naturally and permanently engaged in a war to the death, and at that time our only moral choice is to do all that's necessary to win.”

“Right,” said Grego.

Despite her brother's triumphant tone, Quara had listened to Ender's words, weighed them, and now gave a tentative nod. “As long as we don't start from the assumption that they're varelse,” said Quara.

“And even then, maybe there's a middle way,” said Ender. “Maybe Ela can find a way to replace all the descolada viruses without destroying this memory-and-language thing.”

“No!” said Quara, once again fervent. “You can't– you don't even have the right to leave them their memories and take away their ability to adapt. That would be like them giving all of us frontal lobotomies. If it's war, then it's war. Kill them, but don't leave them their memories while stealing their will.”

“It doesn't matter,” said Ela. “It can't be done. As it is, I think I've set myself an impossible task. Operating on the descolada isn't easy. Not like examining and operating on an animal. How do I anesthetize the molecule so that it doesn't heal itself while I'm halfway through the amputation? Maybe the descolada isn't much on physics, but it's a hell of a lot better than I am at molecular surgery.”

“So far,” said Ender.

"So far we don't know anything," said Grego. "Except that the descolada is trying as hard as it can to kill us all, while we're still trying to figure out whether we ought to fight back. I'll sit tight for a while longer, but not forever. "

“What about the piggies?” asked Quara. “Don't they have a right to vote on whether we transform the molecule that not only allows them to reproduce, but probably created them as a sentient species in the first place?”

“This thing is trying to kill us,” said Ender. “As long as the solution Ela comes up with can wipe out the virus without interfering with the reproductive cycle of the piggies, then I don't think they have any right to object.”

“Maybe they'd feel different about that.”

“Then maybe they'd better not find out what we're doing,” said Grego.

“We don't tell people– human or pequenino– about the research we're doing here,” said Novinha sharply. “It could cause terrible misunderstandings that could lead to violence and death.”

“So we humans are the judges of all other creatures,” said Quara.

“No, Quara. We scientists are gathering information,” said Novinha.

“Until we've gathered enough, nobody can judge anything. So the secrecy rule goes for everybody here. Quara and Grego both. You tell no one until I say so, and I won't say so until we know more.”

“Until you say so,” asked Grego impudently, “or until the Speaker for the Dead says so?”

“I'm the head xenobiologist,” said Novinha. “The decision on when we know enough is mine alone. Is that understood?”

She waited for everyone there to assent. They all did.

Novinha stood up. The meeting was over. Quara and Grego left almost immediately; Novinha gave Ender a kiss on the cheek and then ushered him and Ela out of her office.

Ender lingered in the lab to talk to Ela. “Is there a way to spread your replacement virus throughout the entire population of every native species on Lusitania?”

“I don't know,” said Ela. “That's less of a problem than how to get it to every cell of an individual organism fast enough that the descolada can't adapt or escape. I'll have to create some kind of carrier virus, and I'll probably have to model it partly on the descolada itself– the descolada is the only parasite I've seen that invades a host as quickly and thoroughly as I need the carrier virus to do it. Ironic– I'll learn how to replace the descolada by stealing techniques from the virus itself.”

“It's not ironic,” said Ender, “it's the way the world works. Someone once told me that the only teacher who's worth anything to you is your enemy.”